i found my father on a hill

by CAMERON KELLY

layout PRANAV SUBRAMANIAN photographer RACHEL AQUINO stylist ABBY LODGE hmua CAMERON KELLY model MAYA FAWAZ

"An end of the journey that I knew and loved. The beginning of a journey into the unknown." These were the words you left before leaving for the last time. Little did I know that I, too, was walking into an unknown — a world that was dark and lonely.

My memories of you are too many. Most of them are vivid yet have dissipated with time. I remember the times I rode with you in your semi-truck off to work. I would sit on your lap, and you would point out the names and models of other trucks that traversed the road ahead. Still today, I find myself reciting their names as I hear their rumble pass me on the highway. Often, I sit and watch these memories wisp away like motes of dust floating in a breeze, wishing one day my fingers will pluck one out of the evening sky.

While these memories veiled me from my own reality, nothing could save me from the clutter of voices rambling behind. Voices spewed my failures, telling me that I could never reach my own aspirations without your guidance. From the commotion behind me, I hear your voice from the pages of your final testament, “I could see my sons enjoying their lives, becoming strong and … everything in the world that a father hopes for his sons.” Yes, Dad, I am strong, and I hope that I’m everything you hoped for. But, I can’t be your son, nor can I be your ideal.

I’ve let go of these expectations, and I’ve released them into the breeze that surrounds me. They blended with grains of sediment clouding the hills in the distant horizon. While I’ve walked many desolate hills, my footprints seem to catch up with me as they dissolve into dust and join the haze ahead. When they catch up, I see you walking beside me, hand in hand. We both look to the hills ahead, and I’m scared of what’s yet to come.

When I think of your embrace, I can feel your warmth swaddling me, telling me that it’s okay to embark on a new hill as your beloved daughter. Though the dirt may slip beneath my feet, I can find you as my anchor in the shifting ground. Still, there will be times where I sink through the warped sediment, struggling to resurface. When I extend my arm to breech, I’ll see your hand on the other side, ready to rescue me. And when I finally reach the peak of my hill, I’ll look back to see your silhouette waving at me in the setting sun. As I turn to face the night ahead of me, I know that your love will guide me on my next excursion. Maybe this place wasn’t so dark after all — I just needed to accept your light. ■